


Hallowed Ground

by snowyfoxpaws



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Ghosts, Haunting, M/M, Romance, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowyfoxpaws/pseuds/snowyfoxpaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred, the host of a reality television show, gets more than he bargained for when he and his crew are voluntarily locked in a haunted castle over night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallowed Ground

"Man, this place is spooky." Alfred said, looking up at the old castle that towered above them. "And this used to be the prison?" He said, letting his bag fall to the ground.  
  
Kiku glanced up from where he'd been panning a shot across the front of the stone structure. "This wing of it, yes. At least... that is what the map says."  
  
"Wow. It's perfect." Alfred grinned at his friend.  
  
"It was originally fortified with only one entrance but has since been renovated." The cameraman said, still mostly focused on his shot. They had to get it right before the sun set. "He assured me that all the exits will be locked while we are inside, however."  
  
The host wriggled slightly with barely concealed excitement. "Fantastic! You finish up here and I'll go check on the others." He grabbed his bag and started back for the parking lot. "Meet up with us when you're done. We're starting soon."  
  
Kiku just smiled fondly at Alfred's back as he walked away. "Yes, yes..."  
  
Wandering around the side of the castle, the blue-eyed blond made his way over to the van.  
  
Leaning against the cheap, studio owned vehicle was Francis, chatting amicably with Alfred's brother, Matthew. The two looked up at his approach. "Speak of the devil and he will appear." Mused the older of the two, Francis, grinning wolfishly at him.  
  
Alfred raised his eyebrows at that, shooting Matthew a curious look, but the quieter man just glanced away with a shrug, obviously hiding something. Rolling his eyes, Alfred shrugged it off-- those two were like this _a lot_. "Yeah, whatever. Anyway, the guy should be here soon to lock us in. Then we have all night to film and then we've gotta be out at six before they start preparing for the tours. You guys ready?"  
  
"Yes we _know_ already, Alfred. We planned this together." Matthew said, exasperated. "Although why do we have to be _locked_ in? You keep insisting on it and I just don't understand--,"  
  
Francis rose his hand, leaning in conspiratorially. "It's so that he does not get scared and demand we leave." He mock-whispered.  
  
"No!" Alfred retorted, flustered now, "It's because that's scary! Even if we don't find anything, knowing we're trapped will make it more  _real_. And that's what people want! They want to see us find something and be scared!" He leaned back, crossing his arms, petulant. "Besides, if you guys don't even believe in ghosts then why does it matter?" He grinned. "Scared?"  
  
Francis leaned forward and flicked his nose. " _Non_ , that is _your_ job, but it is not every day I find such a glorious opportunity to see you wet yourself..." He responded, haughty.  
  
Whatever Alfred had opened his mouth to say left his head the moment he saw another car approaching and he felt anticipatory giddiness rise up in him as the vehicle parked next to theirs just as Kiku came back around from where he'd been filming. A man got out of the car, old, a little dazed, and blinked up at them from behind thick spectacles.  
  
And then he grinned, "So you're from that American show right?" His accent was thick, but Alfred had no idea where it was from. "The one about the ghosts and whatnot? Oh man, I don't watch but my wife does and she loves it. She wants your autograph and-- oh, damn it all I forgot a pen--,"  
  
"We have some merchandise." Francis said smoothly. Matthew was already moving towards the van to retrieve it.  
  
"Do you? Wow, that would be fantastic! Margaret'll love this." He looked at them again, the strangeness of his eyes catching Alfred off guard. It was like the man didn't quite look at them, but rather  _through_  them. "So you want to be locked in? I'll admit, no one's ever asked for that before. Place is a bit haunted, you know."  
  
Alfred grinned. As the host and director of the show, he was energetic, brimming with ideas, and he rather savored this one as one of his finest. "We know! Why else would we be here?"  
  
The man laughed at that and then shook his head. "Suit yourself."  
  
The rest was just going through the motions. They gave him a bit of merchandise, each signing a shirt for him and one for his wife before interviewing him for a few minutes and then, finally...  
  
Finally they got to go _inside_.  
  
As the man led them through the wide, arching gate, Alfred whistled, the sound echoing around the courtyard the entrance opened up into. "This is  _some_  place."  
  
And it really was, too. They didn't have to  _work_  to make this place look haunted. The old stone castle was well-maintained, but still carried with it this mottled, grey, weathered look. Clouds were gathered overheard and, although the sun hadn't set just yet, the dark promise of rain made everything overcast and dim. It was damned eerie, that's what it was.  
  
Alfred stared up at the high walls, entranced for a moment. His eyes glided over the stone and scattered ivy idly, no longer listening to whatever it was that the man beside him was saying.  
  
Just as he glanced at one of the windows, the curtain moved, looking as though someone whom had peeled it back to peer out had suddenly released it. It was unsettled to watch it flutter for a moment before it stilled. He felt ice run through his veins, gnawing and gentle, and he nudged the man beside him with a nervous laugh, interrupting whatever it was that he had been saying, "So, uhh... no one's in there, right? I mean, it would be pretty bad if you accidentally locked a cleaning crew inside, right?"  
  
The man blinked at him, owlish, and then cocked his head. "No, no-- the castle is closed on Tuesdays, you know. That's when we get the least business and all. And the cleaning staff only work in the morning."  
  
"Why, Alfred?" Francis crooned, grinning at him. "Did you see someone?"  
  
"No! Well, I mean--," Alfred faltered, because on the one hand he wasn't  _scared,_  of course, but on the other he _did_ run a ghost hunting show and this was the sort of thing he was _supposed_ to be excited about. He shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms. "I just wanted to make sure we didn't have any interference. I mean, it's not exactly scary if there are vacuums being run in the distance, right?"  
  
Matthew huffed a small laugh, "Sure, Al'."  
  
The groundskeeper looked at his watch, making a noise. "Well, I better get you boys settled in then or I'll be late for supper. You sure you have everything?"  
  
Francis, Matthew, and Kiku did a final check of the various bags hanging off of their shoulders before giving the affirmative. Alfred only had the one hooked over his shoulder-- he was the  _host,_  after all, and you couldn't put raw talent in a bag.  
  
"Good, good. Well, you have my number so call me if you need anything or if you get too scared." The man winked.  
  
Alfred laughed, beaming at him with a genuine Hollywood smile. "Don't worry, we'll be fine." He assured the man. "This is what we're here for, right?"  
  
The man just smiled at them, quiet for a moment, and Alfred felt a tingling run up his spine at the look on his face. It was odd-- _knowing_ , even. And then, "Very well. Let's get a move one. Supper and all that."  
  
And with that, they were led inside.


End file.
